Chapter 9 - The Intruders in the Sanctuary
The next day, the forty-eight-hour deadline for the return of the Porsche passed. The car had not been returned.
I was sitting in my private office at the Columbus clinic, working on payroll, when the heavy glass door was suddenly pushed open.
Daniel stood in the doorway.
He looked terrible. His expensive linen shirt was wrinkled, his designer stubble had grown into a patchy, unkempt beard, and there were dark circles under his eyes. He had bypassed the front desk by slipping through the back delivery door, which a courier had left open.
"Evelyn," he said, his voice hoarse. He stepped into the room and closed the door behind him.
I immediately reached under my desk, pressing the silent panic button that connected directly to our private security company. "Get out of my office, Daniel. You are violating a restraining order."
"Please, just listen to me for one minute!" he pleaded, holding up his hands. He looked desperate, almost pathetic. "The police towed the Porsche this morning, Evelyn. They took it right out of the driveway in front of the neighbors. I had to walk to the grocery store. Walk!"
"My heart bleeds for you," I said coldly, my hand resting over my bruised ribs. "You had to walk. Meanwhile, I can’t even laugh or cough without feeling like my chest is being ripped open because of your mother."
"Mom is losing her mind!" Daniel cried, stepping closer to my desk. "We had to pawn her Chanel bags and her Rolex just to raise the twenty-five thousand dollars for her bail. She’s staying with a friend because she’s too ashamed to show her face in Maple Ridge. Why are you doing this to us? We were a family!"
"We were never a family, Daniel. I was your cash cow. You and your mother treated me like an ATM. When she swung that bat at me, you stood there and did nothing. That was the moment our marriage ended."
"I was in shock!" he protested, his voice rising. "I didn't know what to do! It happened so fast! If you just drop the charges, we can work this out. I’ll make Mom apologize. We can go to therapy."
"An apology doesn't heal broken bones, Daniel," I said, standing up slowly, supporting my side. "And it certainly doesn't buy back your lifestyle. The divorce papers will be served to you by tomorrow morning. I’m taking the house. I’m taking the assets. You are going to be left with exactly what you brought into this marriage: nothing."
Daniel’s desperate facade cracked. His eyes hardened, and a familiar, ugly sneer appeared on his face. "You think you’re so smart, don’t you? You think you can just cast us aside? My mother has friends in this town. We will ruin your reputation. By the time we’re done with the divorce court, half of these clinics will belong to me."
"Is that a threat, Mr. Hale?" Marcus’s voice boomed from the doorway.
He had entered with two large security guards. Daniel spun around, his face turning pale once more.
"Escort Mr. Hale off the premises," Marcus ordered the guards. "And call the police. He has officially violated the protection order."
As the guards grabbed Daniel’s arms, he screamed back at me, "You’ll regret this, Evelyn! You’re going to die lonely with your money!"
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I sat back down, my heart pounding, but I didn't shed a single tear. "He's terrified, Marcus."
"He should be," Marcus said. "Because tomorrow, we start stripping them of their dignity."
